


All Around Me

by SquishyCool



Series: There For You [2]
Category: iCarly
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Depression, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10911033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquishyCool/pseuds/SquishyCool
Summary: Carly recalls the horrors of losing her best friend, and how some things aren't completely up to Fate. Sequel to "There For You" & based on the song "All Around Me" by Flyleaf.Part 2 of 3.





	All Around Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FFN on 1.31.2009.  
> Paragraphs in italics are lyrics.

**All Around Me**  


_My hands are searching for you_  
_My arms are outstretched towards you_  
_I feel you on my fingertips_  
_My tongue dances behind my lips for you_

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion for me.

Well, not really, because the past 20 minutes had been a blur. I got that call on my phone, and it came up as "Sam". So, I answered, thinking at the moment that she had called to apologize and beg me to stay the night or something.

But it wasn't Sam on the other end.

"Carly?" an unfamiliar voice had asked.

"Yes?" I answered curiously, wondering who was using Sam's phone.

"This is Linda. I'm an EMS. I'm not sure if Sam is your stepdaughter or sister or what, but we're going to need you to come to St. Schneider's hospital immediately," the woman told me.

I swear my heart stopped for just about 2 seconds.

I didn't find out until later that the EMS had found Sam's phone on the ground (somehow unbroken, but then again it was Sam's – it had to endure a lot), and when they'd gone through her contacts for a family member to call and notify, well… Sam hadn't put her mom at the top of her contacts list. Instead, she put _my_ name at the top by putting a couple of symbols in front of it so it would automatically alphabetize to the top.

She had gone through my phone once and found Spencer's name in my contacts with "[I.C.E.]" next to it. She asked why that was there, and I told her that it stood for "In Case of Emergency", because if I got in a wreck or something like that and I wasn't with Spencer, the EMS people would go through my cell phone if they found it, and if there was a name in there with that abbreviation by it, they'd call it and notify Spencer of where I was. She didn't really say anything, and I'd never gone through her phone after that.

Turns out, the number at the very top of her contacts list was mine, labeled "**Carly {I.C.E.}".

She didn't even put that abbreviation next to her own mom's name. Just mine and Spencer's…

As soon as I ended the call, I screamed for Spencer to take me to the hospital. He dashed downstairs and asked what was going on, and all I could say was, "It's Sam…"

Within 30 seconds, we were downstairs and in the car, starting it and speeding off towards St. Schneider's. We took the way to the hospital that passed by the street we'd normally turn down to go to Sam's house, and about a few blocks short of that turn, we came up on something from a nightmare.

There were blue-and-red police lights flashing, and cars were being directed around the area slowly. The right turn was closed off with yellow CAUTION tape. A car was stopped in the middle of the street that intersected with the one we were driving down, its nose reaching just past the curb, putting it only a few inches into the intersection, but completely across the pedestrian walkway.

Cops were standing all around, and there were bystanders just staring at the scene, some of them talking to cops and making gestures towards the blocked-off scene. A guy was pressed against the trunk of the stopped car, a cop holding him against it and handcuffing him. He wasn't fighting back, but he looked disoriented and confused, a little spaced-out. He kind of looked like he was on pills or something, or maybe he was drunk. I dunno…

Then, this is where things started slowing down big time… I know it sounds weird, but hear me out. Everything kind of slowed down: the guy and the cop were moving slow, the cops mouth forming words with accentuated facial expressions, people pointing and their fingers gesturing towards the scene so slowly. It even seemed like our car had slowed down, but it hadn't yet. When it finally did, I pressed my face against the glass of the passenger side window and searched the scene as well as I could with my eyes, which were filled with tears by now just from the fear I was feeling.

That's when I saw it…

Sam's red plaid bag was lying on the street off to the side of the stopped car. And just a few feet from that…

Oh, God, my stomach was turning at this…

There was a big, red spot on the pavement of the road – blood. There were several smaller spots around that, and a shoe lay abandoned off to the side of both the bag and the blood spot.

Sam's shoe, from her favorite pair.

"Oh my God," I choked out in no more than a whisper, tears really filling my eyes now.

"What?" Spencer asked, worried, looking at me as he slowed down for the cop that was directing traffic.

I turned and looked at him, then pointed to the scene we were about to pass by. When he examined it, his eyes widened. He knew what Sam's things looked like just as well as I did.

"Oh, no," he whispered, his eyes shooting to me.

I held back frantic tears and sobs and only said, " _GO_ , PLEASE! Spencer, _hurry_!"

He nodded and turned his attention back to the road in front of him, speeding back up as soon as he made it past the cop. When I turned back, we had passed by the stopped car that was obviously the reason for this entire scene. I looked back at it, keeping my eyes glued out the passenger side window. To my horror, there was a small, nearly unnoticeable dent in the front bumper of the car, and tiny splatters of blood around that.

I thought I was going to be sick.

 _Please, God,_ I prayed. _Please let her be okay. Please… don't take her away from me. Not today. Not after all this…_

I had only prayed a few times prior to this: right after my mother's wreck, when my grandma was in the hospital, when my dad got sent off to Europe, and when Granddad tried to take me away from Spencer and Seattle.

Only one of those times was my prayer answered… _  
_

_This fire rising through my being  
Burning, I'm not used to seeing you_

When we got to the hospital, I was squirming around in my seat, ready to find Sam and apologize and tell her I loved her and that I wanted her to come stay the night and for everything to be fine. I'd get that chance, right? I always get that chance… Best friends can't be separated. They just… _can't_! It's like… a law or something.

Spencer found a parking space and swerved into it, and before he could even put the car in Park, I was out the door and heading towards the glass front doors of St. Schneider's. He quickly turned the car off and got out, locked it, then caught up with me. By that time, I was already halfway across the huge parking lot, the sun setting behind me and casting a long shadow across the pavement.

Out of nervousness and bad habit, I started running my hands through my hair repeatedly, messing it up and pulling on it, tugging on it, tears finally falling out of my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. (This is how my hair had started falling out after I lied to Spencer about my history grade, just in case you were wondering.)

I continued tugging on my hair, as if it were a security blanket, running my hands through it and roughly wiping away tears as I made it inside the hospital. I hate hospitals. I have for years. The sterile smell and the way all the nurses look in those scrubs, and the way all the beds feel the same – uncomfortable and fake and temporary. I hate how everything in there feels temporary, as if it's all just there until the people occupying it die or something, and then it can be replaced.

I dashed up to the nurse at the front desk, who looked at me as if I were crazy. I knew I didn't look good, but I mean, come on, lady! It's a hospital! Who's gonna look good when they come in?

"Can I help you?" she greeted.

"Um… is-is Sam Puckett here? I got a call from an EMS and – "

"She probably hasn't been checked in then. You can go down to the ER and see if they've arrived yet," she quickly answered me, looking back down at the files in her hands.

I nodded. "Thank you."

With Spencer at my heels, I turned and headed down the hallway in the direction I knew lead to the ER. More tears fell, staining my shirt, and my pace only quickened. My heart was racing inside my chest, and my breaths were coming out shaky and unsure, just like all of the thoughts inside my head. I sniffled, trying to be strong. But I knew I couldn't be. Sam was the strong one… not me.

"Carly…"

Spencer's voice sounded faint and far away behind me, and I couldn't focus enough to answer him. I only hurried down the hallway.

When we got closer to the ER, I could hear yelling and commotion, beeping from machines and the screeching that could only mean bad news… Before I knew it, I was full out running down the hall, my shoes squeaking on the clean tile floor. I passed under the archway that said "ER", my messy hair flying behind me. My wary eyes met the sight of a whole crowd of doctors and nurses rushing around a stretcher, passing around medicines and syringes and medical equipment, yelling to each other.

I walked a little closer and stopped dead in my tracks. A couple of nurses had moved out of the way and I could see the bloody, broken body lying on the stretcher now.

My heart jumped to my throat before shattering into a million pieces. This is when everything became slow motion…

_I'm alive,  
I'm alive_

Spencer and I were invisible to the doctors and nurses that occupied the ER. They were all too focused on Sam, who lay there, motionless, her chest only barely rising and falling as her lungs strived for air. An oxygen mask had been put over her bruised and swollen face, and her eyes were closed, as if she were sleeping.

I was frozen in my spot, staring in sheer horror at the sight. When they cut her layers of shirts open, I could see that her torso was all twisted and battered – bruises and blood, and bones in places they weren't supposed to be, and missing from places they _were_ supposed to be. Her blonde hair was a matted mess of curls and blood, with a nurse tending to the source of all the blood – a gash on her head, somewhere under all her hair.

I got the terrible image of Sam being hit by that car in my head, seeing it play over and over like a movie. I could imagine her tiny, skinny body being thrown into the air and falling back down to the hard, unforgiving pavement. I could picture her fragile skull being cracked and all her bones being crushed and put out of place and…

Oh my God, my Sam… She was hurt beyond repair.

I didn't realize it, but I had begun to rush towards the bed, wanting to shake Sam until she woke up, wanting to find out that this was all a practical joke, or revenge for me being so mean to her and talking about such stupid things and sending her home. But a strong arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me back. I fought back, trying to push through it, but it held me back, digging into my stomach.

I turned my head to see Spencer standing behind me, tears in his eyes and his arm around me, planted in his spot and struggling to hold me back from running towards the chaotic scene. He looked at me, pure shock and distress all over his face.

"You can't, Carly. Just stay back," he told me firmly, but I could hear the shakiness in his voice. I could always tell when he was trying to be strong for my sake.

I turned back and stared, everything still seeming to go slower than it should. Tears were streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably, but it didn't faze me. My heart was pumping and my stomach was cramping from where Spencer's arm held me back, yet I continued to fight it, trying to pry it away with both of my hands.

When I looked back up, I could see the heart monitor… It was close to flat-lining. I knew the pattern.

 _Not my Sam,_ I thought.

" _SAM! NO! LET ME GO, PLEASE!_ _ **SAAAAAAM!**_ "

I didn't recognize the high-pitched screams and begs coming from my own mouth. I was pleading with Spencer to let me go. I had to get to her, I had to… _save_ her somehow. I couldn't let this happen! She couldn't die and just leave me behind – she _couldn't_! It wasn't _allowed_!

As I continued to struggle, I didn't even notice Freddie rush in with his mom close behind. He stopped and stood right behind me and Spencer, staring at the scene with shocked, lifeless eyes. When I turned around, I saw him, his face paler than I'd ever seen it and his eyes quickly filling with tears. I sobbed in desperation.

I found out later that he'd heard about the accident from his mom. She had a police scanner in their home, and when she'd heard the location and description of the pedestrian hit by a "speeding and possibly intoxicated driver", she knew it was Sam. She told Freddie, and before she could even decide what to do, he had run out the door, fully ready to run all the way to St. Schneider's. But his mom had brought him, and now he was staring at the girl he'd always "hated", watching her die.

I always knew he loved her – as a friend, but nonetheless… He was lost without either of us. We weren't whole if it was just Sam and Freddie, or Carly and Freddie, or Carly and Sam. It had to be all 3 of us, or none of us.

But that was all about to change right before our eyes.

I couldn't find my voice for a moment. I stared at Sam, watching as the doctors stuck her with needles and used different equipment on her, trying to keep her heart beating and get air into her lungs. But she was more broken than they even knew at the time. There were injuries inside her that were draining the very life from her. And she must've been in so much pain… I wanted to rush over and pick her up and carry her out of the hospital. I wanted to take her away from all of this chaos and pain and just… _fix_ her.

I wanted to apologize to her, and tell her that I loved her. I wanted to tell her just _how much_ I loved her…

I freed one of my hands from pushing Spencer's arm away and stretched it out as far as it would reach, for some reason thinking I could pull her towards me or something. It was pure desperation, and my fingers only stretched towards air. I was reaching out for her, but it was useless. I swear, I could feel her broken body on my very fingertips, yet I couldn't get close enough to her. I had to break free of Spencer's hold on me.

I found my voice somehow, and it came out, choked up and filled with anguish and devastation. " _SAAAAM!_ OH MY GOD, PLEASE… _**SAM!**_ "

I fought for freedom from Spencer's arm with my free hand still, but he's stronger than he looks, and he fought with all his might to keep me back. He was keeping me back for my own good, I knew, but something inside me was writhing to be close to Sam again before it was too late. There were so many words on the tip of my tongue, all of them for her, that I had to deliver before it was too late. I knew she could hear me… Somehow… I just _knew_.

Finally, with a grunt of relief, I shoved Spencer's straining arm away, and I ran faster than I've probably ever run in my life, straight to the side of the stretcher.

"SAM!" My subconscious was controlling everything I said now, all of it coming straight from my heart, but my voice becoming weaker as I lost hope. I grasped the edge of the side of the stretcher, near Sam's feet, so hard that my knuckles turned white and I could feel my hands going to sleep. But it was like, if I didn't hold on to that bloody surface, I would collapse right there and die with her. "Please… Sam, _I love you_! _Please_ don't go! _**PLEASE!**_ "

Somewhere along the way, I had realized the truth… She was _dying_. Closer up, I saw the injuries with gruesome detail, and I knew no one could survive this… not even Sam. I was so desperate to hear her voice again, though. I wanted to hear her tell me she loved me, too, and that she forgave me for being so dumb. I wanted her to come back with me and sleep in my bed. I wanted her to cuddle up to me in the middle of the night while she was sleeping, and get that smile on her face she always got whilst dreaming. I wanted to feel her wrap an arm around me as we slept, and protect me just like she always has.

I wanted to feel her heartbeat one more time.

"Sam, I'm sorry I got mad at you, I-I'm sorry I'm so stupid and-and I _need_ you! _Please, Sam!_ You can't leave me! _**SAAAM!**_ " I yelled, somehow going by unnoticed by the rushing doctors and nurses around me, who seemed to be going at a much faster pace than either Sam or I were going.

 _I can feel you all around me_  
_Thickening the air I'm breathing_  
_Holding on to what I'm feeling_  
_Savoring this heart that's healing_

After I told her I loved her, I got this weird shiver down my back, and an odd calmness came over me for just a split second. It was like I could feel Sam listening to me, and that I knew in my heart that she loved me back and wanted to tell me.

I'd always known that she only tried to be the best friend she could be, even if she screwed up sometimes. She was always there for me, and I couldn't lose that. I wasn't going to let it go without a fight.

"I can't live without you, Sam! _Please!_ You're all I _have_ , Sam! I can't do this without you! Don't _leave me!_ _**Please!**_ I'll do _anything_! I-I'm sorry! I'll buy you all the ham you want, and… and I won't talk about boys… Please, Sam…"

My voice was growing quieter and weaker as I lost hope and the sound of the heart monitor continued loudly in my ear. It was getting closer and closer to flat-lining, and my chance was dwindling away with every one of her last breaths.

I knew she was in there somewhere, listening to me and wanting to tell me how much she loved me. But I was about to collapse right there, my grip tightening and tightening on the fabric of the stretcher, tears still running down my cheeks, which were probably covered in tears and makeup by now. My hair stuck to the sides of my sweaty face, and I gasped for air, almost wanting to go with Sam to wherever she was about to go.

I was making stupid deals, I know, and I sounded like a little kid with the way I was begging her. But all I wanted was for her to open her eyes and look at me one more time; I wanted to see those blue eyes, and I wanted to know she forgave me, and that she knew I loved her. I wanted to see her cute little smile one last time, and I wanted to know she was going to be happy and pain-free after all this, even if she was leaving me behind…

Suddenly, I felt strong hands grasp firmly onto my shoulders, the nails digging into my skin through my shirt. I winced and looked, seeing a nurse hurrying and prying me away, pushing me back towards Spencer. She pushed me through the crowd of stressed out doctors and nurses, and I stood at the very edge of the crowd when she let go and went back. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to look over the heads that kept blocking my view. My eyes darted between the heart monitor and the lifeless body that held the Sam I knew on the bed.

Then, as if my prayers had been answered and she'd read my mind, the crowd parted just enough for me to have a clear view of her face, and her eyes opened. She struggled at first, prying open her swollen eyes behind bruised and swollen cheeks, one side of her face still bleeding. My heart rose a mile in the air, and I watched in awe as she focused her vision and looked towards me.

She'd heard me. I knew she had.

" _SAM!_ " I cried out, my voice full of hope now, but my eyes still full of tears.

She looked at me for a moment, then her lips slowly rose and a small, weak smile formed. She was smiling at me one last time, tears in her eyes, using the very last of her energy and strength.

I knew what she was trying to tell me, and it sent relief rushing through my veins like pure oxygen.

" _I_ _ **love**_ _you_ ," I finally managed to choke out to her, a knot in my throat.

She continued to smile at me, a look in her eyes that spoke a million words, all for me. I smiled back, keeping my own eyes glued to hers.

That's when a nurse stepped in front of me and proceeded to push me back away from the scene until I was back with Spencer, who quickly grabbed me up in his arms and pulled me into him. The nurse rushed back to the sound of the heart monitor beeping faster and faster. Spencer held onto me tightly, both arms wrapped around me, my back pressed against him, and I stared with shocked eyes as Sam's eyes closed once more and her smile faded.

And she let go.

A loud, long, continuous beep emitted from the heart monitor now, echoing throughout the ER. My heart dropped down to my feet and very possibly through the floor entirely. I felt Spencer's hold on me tighten, but I continued to stare as the doctors and nurses scrambled around even faster.

After a few moments, they all seemed to realize the same thing: that she had given up and was already long gone. They all slowed and kind of stopped, idly holding whatever medical item was in their hands.

Finally, one of the doctors standing above her, holding those heart-shocking things, let out a sigh. He handed the shocking things to a nurse before letting his bloody, gloved hands drop down to his sides, his sad eyes on Sam's swollen and unrecognizable face.

"Time of death… eight twenty-five pm," he said solemnly.

One of the nurses nodded and rushed off, going to write down the information, I guess.

I just stared, my eyes wide and still filled with tears that threatened to spill over. I felt Spencer's hold on me tighten, and I knew he was trying to take it all in, too.

Then, I heard Freddie's choked-up voice behind me whisper, "Oh… my God…"

I spun around in Spencer's arms and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shirt. The tears came freely without me even knowing, and I started sobbing, the sound muffled by his shirt. He only held me closer, trying to comfort me, but I could feel him shaking. Freddie was holding onto his mom, too, crying. She soothed him, tears in her eyes.

None of us could believe any of this was real.

 _My hands float up above me_  
_And you whisper you love me_  
_And I begin to fade_  
_Into our secret place_

I lay in bed later that night, my hair still a mess and my face still red and streaked with tears and makeup. I felt numb. I half-expected to see Sam walk into the loft and head straight for our fridge… but she never did. And even though I waited patiently and listened closely, I didn't hear her footsteps on the stairs either.

It still felt like she was there, though. It felt like she was with me… everywhere. Like she surrounded me. I wanted to reach up and touch her, know that she was there, feel her warm presence in my bed again.

I fell asleep waiting.

I don't remember waking up. All I remember is opening my eyes and suddenly, I was sitting cross-legged on this grassy hill, surrounded by endless miles of grassy fields. The sky was dark and full of shining stars, the moon the brightest. When I turned my head and looked to my left, I was relieved to find Sam sitting not far away, her legs stretched out, leaning back on her hands. She looked laid-back and relaxed, her blonde curls flowing down her back. There was no blood, no broken bones… just Sam.

As I stared, she turned her head and looked at me, smiling that cute smile. Her blue eyes glistened and locked onto mine, just like in the hospital. Except this time, her smile was full and bright and not weak at all. Everything about her look spoke the same words to me, though.

Something in my peripheral vision caught my eye, and I turned my head away from Sam for just a second to look behind me. I gasped when I saw… _wings_ extending from my back. I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it's all true. My hair wasn't a mess anymore. It was lying on my shoulders and down my back just perfectly, stopping right above the middle of my wings.

But these wings… they were absolutely _perfect_. They extended out from my back, white and feathery and _beautiful_ … as if I had always been meant to have them.

I didn't understand, though. Shouldn't Sam be the one with wings? She was an angel now, and I knew it. I was just visiting her. Yet… I was the one with wings.

I looked back to her and she was still watching me, still smiling, pure love and admiration all over her face. She looked the happiest I'd ever seen her.

"Sam…"

She raised her eyebrows, still smiling.

"Sam, I miss you so much," I whispered, my voice seeming to echo around me. "Why'd you leave me?"

She looked up at the dark sky for a moment, then looked back to me. "I didn't leave you, cupcake. I'm always there for you."

I smiled back, relief flooding over me. "Will you be there when I wake up?"

She nodded. "Always."

 _The music makes me sway_  
_The angels singing say we are alone with you_  
_I am alone and they are, too, with you_

I reached a hand out, resting it on the warm grass, palm up. She placed her hand in mine – it was warm and soft, a texture almost like satin. I grasped onto it, staring down at our joined hands. She continued to look at me.

"I love you, Sam," I whispered. "And I'm so sorry… I never meant to be so mean to you…"

She shook her head, still smiling. "I love you, too, Carls… It's okay."

I watched her, tilting my head to the side a bit. She looked back up to the moon again, and I followed her gaze. A shooting star flew past, and then a shadow flew by quickly, like someone with wings… an angel? I didn't know, but I didn't question it at the time. I had my Sam with me, and that's all that mattered.

I was still staring up at the moon when her voice echoed in my ears, "Everything happened that was supposed to happen."

I looked back at her quickly, worry on my face. "What? But… I thought you said you'd be there when I wake up… I thought this was all a nightmare…"

Her smile faded and her hand tightened a little on mine. "I'm always there for you, Carly… Just like I always tried to be. Now I really can be. I can be the friend you always deserved."

I shook my head, yanking my hand back. " _What?_ No! Sam, you… you have to come back. You can't leave me. _Please…_ You're already everything I deserve, but I need you _there_ with me!"

I saw a tear roll down her cheek, and she looked down at her lap. "You may feel alone, but I'll be there; I'll always be there. I'm never leaving you, Carls. You're the one meant for wings, and I'm the one meant to leave. They said it's… just how it has to be; it's fate."

I stared in awe, shaking my head, unable to speak.

"Everything that is meant to be will find its way," she whispered, looking back up at me. " _And this is meant to be._ "

Tears started forming in my eyes, and my breathing quickened, realization hitting me like a brick. "No. No, Sam, I can't make it without you… You can't leave me alone…"

She gave me a helpless look before disappearing in a wisp of smoke. The last image I had was of her blonde hair blowing about her face, as if a strong gust of wind had suddenly come up behind her, and then all of it vanishing completely.

I wasn't alone long before I heard a familiar whispered voice echo from the starry sky above me, "…She's alone now…"

I began breathing quicker and quicker, gasping at air, as I sat alone on that hill. The moon and the stars began to fade, as did the grass that surrounded me.

Then, I woke up.

_I'm alive,  
I'm alive_

My eyes popped open, and I found my face damp again. Tears were pouring out of my eyes in my sleep, falling down the sides of my face and into my hair and pillow. I lay there, still gasping for air, feeling my lungs tightening. It was an unfamiliar feeling that I hadn't felt in years.

I sat up, grasping at my chest, trying to even out my breathing. I told myself to calm down and I forced myself to take deep, even breaths. After a few moments, I managed to open my lungs up fully again, and my breathing slowly returned to normal.

I wiped the tears off my face and ran a hand through my hair. I turned my head to look at the empty side of my bed, expecting to see a sleeping Sam… but I didn't. Instead, I saw an empty, cold spot, the indention still in the pillow from when she'd stayed the night before. The memories and the dream I'd just had hit me again, all of the grief washing over me all over again. I looked at my clock: 8:25 am.

I felt more tears building up. It was like God was taunting me or something. I couldn't take it. Everything felt so wrong and out of place.

I slowly threw my feet over the side of the bed, feeling them land on a cold floor. I shivered, feeling more alone than I ever had before. I got up and went to my dresser, pulling out a clean set of pajamas and grabbing my hairbrush before heading to the bathroom.

I thought about how 25 used to be my favorite number, because it was me and Sam's "Best Friend Anniversary". Even when we fought that once about it… it remained my favorite day of the year and my favorite number. Now it was just going to suck, because I'd be the remaining half of the friendship, and all I'd be able to think about was how I messed up and sent her home when I should've forgiven her for being her and gotten over it.

But the image of the day we met haunted me, because it kept transforming into the image of her bloody body lying on the stretcher, motionless and lifeless, not the Sam I knew.

I turned on the shower and let it warm up as I stripped off my clothes, tossing them to the floor and setting out my clean ones. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and listlessly stepped into the shower and under the water, sliding the glass door shut. The hot water hit me and sent goose bumps all over my skin, wetting my hair and making it stick to my neck and shoulders.

I was the farthest thing from happy, and I wondered if I would ever be happy again… I was skeptical about it. Sam made me happy, and without her… Well, life sucked.

I took my time washing my hair and the rest of myself, letting the soap drain off my body and watching it all spin down the drain. When I was done, I stayed there, letting the water run over me for I don't know how long. I think I cried, but all I felt were the hot tears in my eyes, and I couldn't tell if they were falling or not, because they mixed in with the water and everything became blurry.

It must've been at least an hour and a half later when the hot water started to go away. I was still crying, my mind off somewhere else. More thoughts of Sam started to come to me, and I couldn't even hold them back anymore. I thought about how much I loved her, and how she was my other half, and now she was _gone_. I had taken her for granted and now everything we'd had was washed away.

A handful of memories started hitting me all at the same time, each one sharper and more painful than the last. It felt like the very air around me was tightening, pushing in on me, trying to back me into a corner of hopelessness. The feeling I'd had when I'd woken up came back with a vengeance, and my chest started constricting, my throat feeling narrower and narrower. My lungs were practically deflating, and I gasped hard at the air, but I couldn't seem to get enough.

I started to get dizzy and light-headed, and I felt as if I would fall over at any minute, like my legs would give out right from underneath me. I slapped a hand against the glass shower door, leaning on it for support with my other hand clutching my chest. My wet hair fell over my face as I leaned harder against the glass door, trying to breathe in. The air felt too thick to breathe, though, and my lungs felt too tight to take in enough. Something wasn't working right inside of me.

After a few moments of sputtering and choking, and more failed attempts at breathing, I managed to get a shaky hand on the handle of the shower door and slide it open at least halfway. I looked to the closed bathroom door, wondering if I could make it across the bathroom at this point.

"Sp…Spen…Spencer!" I gasped out, trying to call my brother for help. But it wasn't nearly loud enough. I couldn't suck in enough oxygen to use for a full breath and a full call for help.

But I tried again. "Sp- _Spencer_!"

The edges of my vision started going black, and the bathroom began to resemble a tunnel. I still had my eyes set on the door, but I had only taken barely one step out of the shower, the water still running behind me. The sound of the shower made it harder for me to be heard. I wondered if Spencer even knew I was out of bed.

The small breaths I was managing became shallow and I felt weaker and weaker. Before I knew what was happening, I'd dropped to my knees with a loud thudand landed on the bathmat below me. I was bent over, on my hands and knees, still trying to gasp for air, but never getting enough.

 _I can feel you all around me_  
_Thickening the air I'm breathing_  
_Holding on to what I'm feeling_  
_Savoring this heart that's healing_

I guess Spencer has supersonic hearing when it comes to my safety, because he heard the sound of me hitting the floor all the way from downstairs. He was up the stairs and to the bathroom within 5 seconds. The bathroom door was locked because I don't like to be bothered when I take my long showers, so he started pounding on it.

"Carly? Carly! Are you okay?" he called through the door.

I gasped louder, hoping he could hear me. "Sp…encer! As…asthma… attack!"

"Oh my God! Okay, just stay there, Carly, I'm gonna get your inhaler right now!" he told me, panic in his voice.

I nodded even though he couldn't see me, and then listened to his footsteps rushing downstairs to his room. He was back upstairs, inhaler in hand, in no time, but I was still on the floor, gasping and trying to keep my throat from closing up completely. It felt like air was completely unbreathable for me.

The doorknob jiggled violently as Spencer tried to open the door, pushing on it. "Carls! Is the door locked? Are you still conscious?

I gasped again. "It… it's locked…"

I didn't know he had the ability, but soon, there was loud, repeated banging on the door, and finally, it swung open, hitting the wall and bouncing back a little. Spencer lowered his foot he had used to kick it open and pushed the door aside, then rushed to me, getting down on his knees next to me as he shook the inhaler. He helped me sit up right, then put the inhaler in my mouth.

"Okay, ready?" he prepared me.

I nodded, my eyes closed. He pressed the button and I gasped in the medicine that emitted from it, then held it in my lungs. Finally… the air thinned down enough for me to _breathe_.

After a while of tending to me and comforting me and making sure I had recovered, Spencer got up and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around my cold shoulders. He reached across me and turned off the shower, bringing a sudden silence to the bathroom. I sat on the bathmat, my hands clutching the towel around my shoulders, shivering. He reached down and rubbed my shoulders.

"Ya alright?" he asked softly, pushing some of my wet hair out of my face.

I nodded, tears in my eyes again.

"C'mon, baby sister," he urged me in a quiet voice, helping me stand up. "Let's get you back to bed… you've had a rough night. You need some more rest… no more showers."

He smirked, trying to cheer me up, but I only nodded solemnly, reaching up and wiping away a tear. He grabbed up my clean pajamas and my hairbrush and put an arm around me, guiding me back to my room. He then handed me my clothes and tossed my hairbrush onto my bed before he went to leave the room, but stopped just outside the doorway, his hand on the knob, and turned around.

"You want some water or something? Some oatmeal, maybe?" he offered with sympathetic eyes.

I nodded my head. "A glass of water would be fine…"

"Okay. I'll be right back," he told me, then left the room, shutting the door behind him.

I stood there for a moment, still enjoying the luxury of being able to breathe. I was still in shock that I'd had an asthma attack… I hadn't had one since I was 7! When they told me Mom died…

I dried myself off quickly with the towel, having already been mostly dry from being outside of the shower for so long, then slipped on my clean pajamas. I rubbed the towel through my hair idly until Spencer came back, knocking on the door.

"Yeah," I said, dropping the towel down on the tear-stained pillow next to me.

He opened the door and came inside, a clear glass of water in his hand. He came to where I was sitting on my bed and handed me the glass. I took it from him slowly and took a long drink, then set it down on my nightstand. I looked off to the side, still feeling gloomy as ever. He noticed this and sighed, plopping down next to me on the bed.

"Carly… I'm really sorry," he whispered.

He'd already told me this last night. We'd gone through it already. He'd held me as I cried until I was ready to go to bed, and he called me in to school for the rest of the week. He kept trying to cheer me up, trying to look on the bright side.

But I could see it in his eyes… Even he knew that, without Sam, there _was_ no bright side.

I nodded, though, staring down at the floor. I pulled my feet up underneath me, crossing my legs. I sighed in exasperation. Everything felt so wrong.

He put an arm around me and pulled me towards him. I gave in and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shirt once more. But I didn't cry this time… I couldn't. I was almost sure I'd cried the last of my tears in the shower. He rubbed my back soothingly, and I only sniffled.

When I pulled away, he looked at me, pushing a piece of hair out of my face. "Want me to brush your hair… like we used to do?"

Even though I felt too old for it, and we hadn't done it since Dad left for Europe and I first moved in, I nodded, wanting nothing more than to feel at least something like I used to. He gave me a small smile and reached over, grabbing my brush from where he'd tossed it. I turned around, sitting with my back to him, and he scooted up more on the bed, putting one leg up on it to face my back.

He started brushing my hair, running it through the wet tangles slowly and soothingly. I closed my eyes and let the shivers run down my spine over and over, trying to picture Sam's happy face in the back of my eyelids.

"We'll make it through this, Carls," Spencer said softly, brushing some hair back off my forehead. "You're strong. We're both strong… we've made it through stuff like this before… we can do it again."

I didn't nod my head, or shake it, or even say anything. All I could think was, _Yeah, easy for you to say… You still have your best friend… I don't._

I didn't mean to think angry thoughts like that, or to seem so unwilling to heal and ready to give up… it just came naturally. I felt incomplete without Sam there to guide my every step. It may have looked to everyone else like I was the one that kept Sam out of trouble, but she did just as much for me as I did for her. She taught me how to be a true friend, and how to not let anyone walk over me. She protected me, too, and she _showed_ me what a true friend was. She would do anything for me, and she would never hurt me, or let anyone else lay a hand on me.

She taught me how to see the value in everyone, no matter how rough and edgy they seemed on the outside. She let me see the vulnerable side of her that no one else got to see, and she _let me in_ …

She _trusted_ me.

And all I did was send her home and let her… _die_ …

A sudden thought came to my head, and I spoke, "Hey, Spence…?"

"Yeah?" he asked, continuing to run the brush softly through my wet hair.

I sighed. "Were you um… in my room when I was asleep earlier, or anything?"

He didn't answer for a moment. "Well, I stood at the door… I was checking up on you while I talked to Dad on the phone. Why?"

So that explained the echoing voice in my dream, telling me I was alone now.

"Just wondering… I thought I heard you, that's all," I explained.

After about 10 minutes of soothingly brushing my hair, Spencer stood up, setting my hairbrush on my dresser. He walked back over to me, lifting my blanket and letting me get underneath it before laying it back over me. I rested my head back against the pillow and looked up at him, wanting to force a smile, but not even being able to do that. He leaned down and gave me a kiss on my forehead, like I was a little kid again, then tucked the blanket in underneath me, making sure I was comfortable.

"I'll be right downstairs if you need anything, okay?" he told me.

I nodded. "Thanks, Spence…"

He smiled, then went to my windows and closed all the curtains. He shut off the light and left my room, closing the door behind him. I lay there in my bed, alone, the dim room I was in feeling like it was swallowing me whole.

 _And so I cry_  
_The light is white_  
_And I see you_

It wasn't long before I managed to drift off back to sleep, exhausted from my attack. The one thing I was thankful for was that Spencer had acted fast enough so that I didn't have to go to the hospital. I dreaded that place more than anything now.

I drifted off into a restless slumber. Random images popped into my dreams, from Freddie and Spencer to Sam at different ages. I had a dream about the first time we'd met, which faded into a dream about our first fight back in 3rd grade… And _that_ faded into a dream about me yelling at Sam for being so uncaring and telling her to just… _go home_ …

I kept waking up in between dreams, and whenever I'd go back to sleep, I'd see police lights and a red plaid bag lying on bloody pavement; unfamiliar hands in handcuffs and other hands pointing to a scene I didn't want to see; an oxygen mask over a swollen face, and blonde hair matted with blood…

Then I saw a bright, white light surrounding a silhouette that I knew to be Sam's. When I got closer, I could see all of her instead of just a silhouette; she only smiled at me, looking behind her at the source of the white light. I reached out for her, but she only stood there, as if she were waiting for me. I tried to call out to her, but my voice wouldn't work, and then my lungs would tighten and I'd collapse… and when I looked back up, she was gone, and the light had grown dark.

And I was alone again.

 _I'm alive,_  
_I'm alive,_  
_I'm alive_

I woke up for good around 5 o'clock, my shirt damp with sweat and my hair still damp from my shower, and now from my sweat as well. I sat up and wiped my face off, sighing and kicking the covers far away from me. The other side of my bed was still perfect, though – just as Sam had left it. I made a point not to disturb it.

I got up and stood in the darkened room, the sun beginning to go dim outside of my closed curtains. I walked to my closed door and opened it, peeking out into the hall. I saw light coming up the stairs from the living room, and I could hear low mumbles and other sounds coming from the TV. Then, another sound reached my ears, and I had to strain my hearing to check that I was sure of what it was…

I wasn't positive, so I quietly tip-toed out of my bedroom and to the top of the stairs, where I took the first few steps down and stopped, peeking around the corner and down to the couch. Spencer was sitting alone, nothing but a lamp and the TV on, a sketchbook sitting on the coffee table in front of him. His elbow was propped up on the arm of the couch and he was leaning back into the cushion of the corner of the couch, his face in his hand that was propped up.

I listened closer and… sure enough… Spencer was _crying_.

My heart dropped. I hadn't seen Spencer actually, honestly cry since Grandma died, and before that, when Mom died. I know he almost cried when Granddad wanted to take me away to Yakima; his eyes had teared up when he was saying goodbye to me. But he hadn't actually let himself cry. I don't think he wanted me to see him cry like, ever, because then I'd know he's not Mr. Super Strong Big Brother… and I think he was afraid I'd lose hope because I look up to him so much.

But sometimes I wished he would just let himself cry.

Right now, however, as I stood on the stairs and watched him sob, I felt weak and helpless. I wanted to help him, but I knew I couldn't. He was crying for reasons beyond my comprehension; not just because of me, but because of Sam, and because of the whole situation and all the pain it resurfaced and the scars it tore open.

I watched him for a few more moments, but nothing changed. He continued to sit in front of the low-volume TV and cry alone. So, I turned to go back upstairs, but stopped when I heard a knock on the front door. I spun around in time to see Spencer jump up from where he sat, quickly and roughly wiping the tears off his face and drying his eyes before walking to the door and opening it.

I could see Freddie's dark hair over Spencer's shoulder, and his striped polo shirt. I heard him mumble something to Spencer, and Spencer said something back, then he stepped aside and let Freddie in, closing the door.

I stood shakily and watched Freddie walk over to the couch and sit down, Spencer sitting beside him. They started talking, and Spencer seemed to be comforting him. Before long, though, Freddie was burying his face in his hands and muffling his own sobs. Spencer only put a hand on his shoulder, letting him know he was there and letting a few tears of his own escape.

I stared in awe… Sam had meant so much more to so many more people than I'd ever noticed – than _she'd_ ever _imagined_. I mean, I knew Freddie would never be _happy_ or anything if Sam actually died… but I didn't know he'd take it _this_ hard.

I watched them from my spot on the stairs, my legs weak beneath me. Tears were coming from my eyes again as I watched Freddie sob. I could hear Sam's name occasionally between the sobs, and my name a few times. Whenever Freddie had seemed to stop crying, though, Spencer patted him on the back, handing him a tissue.

"She's upstairs if you wanna go talk to her," I heard him tell Freddie.

Freddie nodded, sniffling, then stood up from the couch and turned around, heading for the stairs.

I turned around and rushed back to my bedroom, shutting the door, but leaving it open just a bit. I flopped myself down onto my bed, laying on my stomach and resting my cheek on my pillow. I listened as Freddie's soft footsteps came up the stairs and to my bedroom door, where he knocked softly before pushing it open a bit more and sticking his head in.

"Yeah," I greeted dully, my eyes half open.

He entered my room and shut the door softly behind him, then walked to my bed and stopped. "Hey, Carly…"

I didn't turn my head to look at him. "Hey."

He cleared his throat nervously. "Can I… sit down?"

I lifted myself up and scooted over, clearing a spot for him to sit. He sat down beside me, then turned to look at me. My hair was hanging over my face, and my head was hung low. I didn't turn to look at him.

He sighed, realizing I wasn't going to talk first. "I'm… sorry. I-I loved her, too, though. I know we always fought, and I know I always acted really… _crappy_ … towards her, and about her… But she meant a lot to me, too. She was just as much my best friend as you are."

I shook my head. "You don't need to apologize for anything, Freddie. I know you cared about her. She cared about you, too… We were all friends."

I saw him nod from the corner of my eye. He hesitated for a bit before changing the subject. "So… how are you feeling? Spencer said you… had an asthma attack this morning."

I nodded, shutting my eyes and sighing. "Yeah… I haven't had one since I was seven, when my mom died. I dunno. I think the stress got to me."

I suddenly felt a warm hand over mine, and I tensed up just slightly. I turned my head and looked through my hair to see Freddie's hand over mine. I looked up to see his nervous face watching me, his eyes still a little teary. He gave me a weak smile, and I smiled back… for his sake.

He was being nice and trying to comfort me, I know, but at the time, I just didn't want any human contact. I wanted to be left alone in my bed to dream about Sam as much as possible.

I didn't notice he had scooted over on the bed, closer to me, until his leg was touching mine, and both our hands were resting on his leg, fingers entwined. I didn't react; I just stared, as if I was in a zombie-like state. This wasn't me at all… Freddie was finally making a move on me, trying to comfort me, trying to be there for me, but also trying to make me feel better by showing me he was still as close to me as ever. It only made me feel worse, though, knowing Sam couldn't be there with us. All of Freddie's love could never make up for Sam's.

"I love you, Carly," he whispered. "I'm always here for you."

I just nodded, not really taking it all in – the sincerity in his voice and the pain in his tone. Everything around me seemed dull any more. All the colors kind of blended together, and the feelings kind of died down, and all the voices sounded the same. Nothing was the same.

That's when I realized, sitting there next to Freddie, his warm hand over my cold one, his voice apologetic and pleading… that _nothing_ would _ever_ be the same.

I didn't realize I had started crying again until I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, and my breaths started coming in shakier gasps. Freddie took a hold of my chin carefully with his free hand and turned my head so I had to face him, making my eyes meet his. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I looked back at him with teary eyes, sniffling.

Before I knew what was really happening, Freddie's eyes were closed and his head was leaning in to mine, his face quickly closing the gap between us. On instinct, I shut my eyes and leaned my head forward just slightly. Our lips met and he pressed his into mine more. I could feel the warmth of his lips on mine, and his nose brushing against my face. I could smell his hair and the soap on his skin, and my hair was brushing against the side of his face.

Then I saw those blue eyes.

It was like a flash of lightning in the back of my eyelids: one minute I was focused on Freddie's soft lips, the next, I was seeing Sam's familiar, bright eyes right in front of my own.

I gasped and yanked back, jerking myself out of Freddie's gasp and away from him completely. By the time he opened his eyes, I had replaced that empty space between us on the bed and left his hand resting on his own leg, empty. His other hand was still in mid-air, and his head was still cocked to the side. He straightened up quickly and gave me a questioning look, licking his lips nervously.

"I-I'm sorry… I didn't mean – "

"No… it-it's okay," I interrupted, not wanting to hear any more apologies from him. "I just… it doesn't feel right… that's all."

How could I explain the feeling of betrayal to Sam that I had when I kissed him?

He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them sadly, nodding. "I-I understand. I just… I don't know what else to do to comfort you or-or take the pain away… I want to…"

I sighed in defeat, looking down at the comforter underneath me. "Maybe… maybe you should go now…"

I saw him look up at me from the corner of my eye, his face apologetic and confused. But he didn't protest. "Okay…"

He got up and went to the door, opening it. But he stopped and turned to me. "Hey… if there's anything you need – anything at all – let me know, okay? I'll have my phone on all night."

I nodded, a grateful look in my damp, brown eyes. "Thank you, Freddie."

He nodded, giving me a small smirk, then turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

I positioned myself again and flopped down on my back, my head hitting the pillow. I let out a groan of frustration, wishing this constant pain would stop already. I was exhausted and sleepy, but I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep through the whole night.

I couldn't seem to get Sam's face out of my head, or from in front of my eyes. Her voice was haunting me, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw hers. She was all around me; everywhere I looked, everywhere I walked, in every memory and in every breath I took.

I just had to face it… There was no forgetting Sam. And there was no letting her go.

 _I can feel you all around me_  
_Thickening the air I'm breathing_  
_Holding on to what I'm feeling_  
_Savoring this heart that's healing_

I lay in bed for some time, bathing in the dim sunset that I could see through my curtains. I drifted off to sleep before the sun had fully gone down, my heart finally slowing down and my breathing finally becoming steady. The mixed dreams I had all involved Sam… her face seemed to float in front of my eyes on a regular basis, and I could almost feel her hair in my hands again; almost smell its strawberry scent.

I kept having a dream that my breathing would slow down, and then something would be putting pressure on my chest, and I'd feel constricted, like I was having another asthma attack. But then Sam would show up, and she'd reach her hand out, and I'd take it – and the air would rush back into my lungs, and I'd be okay again.

And then she'd disappear.

I tossed and turned for hours, sweat once again dampening my shirt and my hair. I woke up for a short period of time, in which I yanked off my pajama pants and threw them to the floor, then quickly fell back to sleep in only my shirt and my boyshorts-style underwear.

It didn't last very long, though. I soon awoke and lay there, unable to keep my eyes closed or calm myself down enough to get back to sleep. I watched the numbers on my clock change: 2:42… 2:56… 3:09…

I finally just sat up, flustered and aggravated, and reached for my PearPhone. I dialed Freddie's cell number and put the phone to my ear, listening to it ring patiently.

"'Yello?" a sleepy voice answered after about 5 rings.

"Freddie?" I asked, my voice soft and weak.

His voice immediately perked up. "Carly? What's wrong?"

I sighed into the phone. "Nothing. I… I just can't get to sleep. I know you probably can't help me, but… I thought I'd call you anyway… just to make sure you're still there, I guess."

I could see him smiling to himself in my head. "Of course I'm still here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

I smiled at his reassuring voice, holding back more tears. Then he spoke again, sounding like he'd suddenly gotten an idea. "Hey, I might be able to help you get to sleep."

I sat up. "Yeah? How?"

"Well, you know my mom has that huge med kit for me and basically like, every pill known to man… _just in case_ ," he reminded me of his mother's ridiculous paranoia and precautions, throwing some obvious sarcasm into those last few words.

"Yeah…" I answered, wondering what he was getting at.

"She has plenty of stuff for sleeping… I'm sure I could find you something that'll help you sleep. I can bring it over to you," he explained.

I sighed. I never liked taking pills or any kind of medication, really, but in this case… I didn't even really care anymore. "Okay. That'd be cool."

"Alright," he agreed. "I'll be over in a sec, 'kay?"

"Okay," I told him. "See you in a bit."

I ended the call and put my phone back on my nightstand, sitting there for a moment. When I worked up the motivation, I got up and went downstairs, going to the fridge and opening it to get something to drink. When the door opened, the bright light inside lit up and spilled out into the kitchen, making me squint from the sudden brightness. When I could see clearly again, I noticed something… and my heart dropped.

The picture of Sam that was stuck to our freezer, right above the fridge door…

I groaned and shut the fridge door quickly, turning away from it. The loft was dark, and Spencer's bedroom door was open – I guessed so he could hear me if I woke up or needed help or something. I was about to go sit on the couch and wait when I heard a soft knocking on the door. I headed towards it, but it was slowly pushed open, and Freddie's face appeared from behind it, peeking into the loft to check that it was safe to come in.

He entered and shut the door quietly behind him, turning back to me. Only when his eyes ran up and down my body, stopping on my lower half, did I remember I wasn't wearing pajama pants. I blushed.

"Quit looking!" I snapped, giving him a playful smile and shoving his arm a little.

He smirked, chuckling, then spoke in a hushed voice so as not to wake Spencer. "Sorry! You just… look really…"

"What?" I interrupted in a whisper. "Crappy? Exhausted? Worn out? Sleep-deprived?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head. "No! I was gonna say 'good'!"

I smiled - weak, but still genuine - blushing again and crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Well… thanks…"

He nodded, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, shaking it. The sound of pills rattling around inside filled the loft. He held the bottle out for me to take.

I took it from him and examined it: there was no label – it was just an orange pill bottle with a child-proof cap, half-full of pills.

"What are they?" I asked, turning the bottle over and over in my hands, examining it in the moonlight that came in through the windows.

He cleared his throat, pulling another bottle out of his pocket and looking at it. "Well, those are Xanax, and these are Ambien."

He handed me the other bottle, which looked similar and held about the same amount of pills, but the pills looked different. The Xanax were little, oval-shaped, white pills, while the Ambien were about the same size, but circular and a light salmon color.

"So which one should I take?" I asked, comparing them both in my hands.

"Well, I would say take the Xanax first," he instructed me. "Just two pills, though, maybe four at the most. My mom gave it to me once after… this thing… happened… and they made me wanna pass out within like, thirty minutes of taking them."

I nodded. "So what's the Ambien for?"

He shrugged. "Well, in case the Xanax doesn't work for you or something, I know my mom takes Ambien when she can't sleep, 'cause Xanax doesn't work for her – it never has, she told me. But don't take them both. Just take one of 'em, and if they don't work, you have to wait like, four hours or something before you try any others."

"Oh, okay," I said, squinting to see the small white pills in more detail.

"Yeah… so, is that all you needed?"

I nodded again. "Yeah. Thanks."

He nodded, then opened his arms and approached me. I wrapped my arms around him as he did the same and gave him a tight hug.

"If there's anything else you need, let me know," he reminded me, pulling away after we let go of each other.

"Okay," I agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He smiled. "Okay. 'Night, Carly."

I smiled back weakly, pill bottles in hand. "'Night."

He turned around and left the loft. I watched the door shut once again, then glanced towards Spencer's room: we hadn't woken him up. I turned and went back into the kitchen, setting the bottle down on the counter and opening the fridge again, but diverting my eyes away from the picture. I pulled out the pitcher of water and got a glass from the cabinet. Once I'd filled the glass with cool, clear water, I put the pitcher back in the fridge. I held my full glass in one hand and picked up both pill bottles with the other, then went back upstairs to my room, where I set it all down on my nightstand and began deciding what I was going to do.

The Xanax sounded like it was really strong, and I didn't actually wanna pass out _that_ hard. So I figured I could take the weaker of the 2, and if it didn't work, I'd take the Xanax later.

I pushed down on the lid of the Ambien pill bottle and turned it, popping the cap off. I poured out 2 of the pinkish pills into the palm of my hand, then replaced the cap. Popping the pills into my mouth, I took a swig of cold water and swallowed it all down, then set the glass back down and lay down.

I pulled the cover up over my body and turned on my side, closing my eyes. I waited for sleep to come… and waited… and waited… and waited. An agonizing hour passed, and I still hadn't fallen asleep. I had laid in every position possible, tried every method for beating insomnia… I'd counted sheep and recited the times table and even named off bones in the human body… Nothing worked.

I turned over again, frustrated, and stared at the pill bottles in the dark. I glared at them, as if doing this would make them feel bad for not working. But the longer I stared at them, the more tempting they became.

 _Oh, why not,_ I told myself, sitting up. _It's been over an hour since I took the Ambien, and just two Xanax couldn't hurt… If something goes wrong, they'll just make me throw up._

I talked myself into it, convincing myself that if I overdosed, it would be minor, and therefore my body would just reject the pills and I would throw them up. It had happened before a few years ago with some pain pills that I'd accidentally taken too many of, why wouldn't it happen now?

I reached over and picked up the bottle that held the Xanax and popped off the cap, pouring 2 white pills into my palm and replacing the cap. I repeated the process of pills in mouth, water, and swallow. Satisfied, I set the glass of water back down and lay down again, getting comfortable and closing my eyes.

About 45 minutes later, I was still lying there, already having tossed and turned every 2 minutes. I was drowsy and my eyelids felt heavy, but I couldn't drift off to sleep. My mind wouldn't stop. Thoughts of Sam kept racing back and forth, and I couldn't seem to push her face from in front of my eyes. I continued trying every method for getting myself to sleep, and they continued to fail.

Frustrated and angry, I sat up once again and reached for the pill bottles in haste. I picked up the one holding Xanax and opened it, pouring 2 more into my hand, then popped them into my mouth and chased them with a drink of water. I eyed the bottle of Ambien with suspicion, wondering to myself if it was even _half_ as effective as the Xanax. Deciding to give it a shot, I also chased down 2 more Ambien. What could it hurt? Like I said, if I overdosed or something, it would be minor and I'd probably just throw up. Not like I'd never done that before…

I heaved a sigh and lay back down, shutting my eyes. It wasn't long before I'd drifted off. However, it wasn't pleasant… As soon as I entered that REM state, I was met with terrible images…

I saw Sam walking home alone, and then I saw a car speeding towards her… A flash, and there she was, lying on the ground, her body twisted at awkward angles and her head bleeding on the pavement. Her bag lay a few feet from her.

Then the red-and-blue police lights were flashing, blinding me. I saw blood, matted blonde hair, a shoe, bruised, milky white skin… and then I heard her call my name.

"Carly…"

She sounded weak and in pain, but she still cried out for me. It stung my heart just to hear her. I didn't know where she was, though, because suddenly, everything had gone black.

It seemed like forever that I was alone in that blackness. Finally, a bright, white light appeared in front of me and grew brighter and brighter, overtaking more and more of the darkness that I was in. Then Sam appeared.

She looked just like she had when I had seen her on that hill. She was smiling, her blonde curls shining from the bright light behind her, her face glowing. She looked happy, but I could tell in her eyes that there was something missing…

Was it _me_?

She stopped just a couple of steps away from me, watching me with those shining, blue eyes. I could feel my heart racing, and my breathing slowed down.

"Carly! _Carly!_ "

Another voice coming from behind me startled me. I spun around, looking for the source, but I only saw blackness. I turned back to Sam, who was still standing in front of me, smiling.

"Carly! _Answer me!_ _Carly!_ _ **Wake up!**_ "

I heard more of the cries from behind me. They sounded familiar, but all I was focused on was Sam, who seemed to be waiting for something. But what was she waiting for?

" _ **CARLY!**_ "

It was Spencer's voice.

 _Take my hand_  
_I give it to you_  
_Now you own me_  
_All I am_  
_You said you would never leave me_  
_I believe you_  
_I believe_

I spun around, expecting blackness again, but instead was met with a tunnel-like view of my room, far away. I knew if I walked closer, I could see it better, but I didn't want to walk away from Sam, for fear that she'd be gone when I turned back around.

I turned back to her, frantic gasps and sobs filling my ears from somewhere behind me. She continued to look at me expectantly, her eyebrows raised. I wanted to ask her if it was okay to go closer to what was behind me, just to see what it was. She seemed to have read my mind, though, because she slowly nodded, smiling at me comfortingly.

I felt my heartbeat racing faster and faster as I turned around and took slow steps toward the tunnel-like view. It grew bigger the closer I got. I looked over my shoulder for a second to see Sam still standing there, the light still behind her… and my wings were back. Why did I have them?

I didn't worry about them so much this time, though. Instead, I continued to walk forward, the scene growing larger and larger. I stopped when everything came into clear view.

It was as if I were looking down from the ceiling of my bedroom: I saw myself lying on my bed, and sunlight coming in through the windows, the curtains now pulled back. I saw Spencer at my bedside, his hands gripping my body and shaking me. He was crying again - sobbing like I'd never seen before - and he was screaming at my unresponsive body. My chest didn't seem to be moving, as if I'd stopped breathing. I just lay there, as if I were in the deepest sleep I'd ever been in.

Spencer's desperate cries painfully filled my ears once again. "CARLY! _PLEASE_ , CARLY! _WAKE UP!_ _ **ANSWER ME!**_ Oh, God, don't do this, _please_ …"

Hearing him brought tears to my eyes. He was frantic, choking on his sobs and trying to breathe as he tried to wake me up. I watched as he turned and picked my phone up from my nightstand and dialed a number with shaky and unsteady fingers, then put it to his ear.

"Yes, nine-one-one? Th-this is Spencer Shay. I live on the eighth floor of Bushwell Plaza, in the west side of Kennedy Square…" he spoke in a surprisingly calm tone, but I could hear the desperation and fear in his voice. "I need an ambulance! _Please!_ My-my little sister, Carly… She's not waking up! There're pill bottles here, I-I think she took too many or something… I don't think she's breathing, but-but she has a pulse… It's really weak… Yes… Oh, _God_ , what do I do?! She won't _answer_ me!"

His cheeks were wet with tears and his hands were shaking as he tried to hold onto the phone that was pressed to his ear, listening to the person on the other end, choking out answers as he watched my lifeless body.

" _No_ , I didn't give her the pills! I don't _know_ where she got them! I don't know when she took them or how many she took – I just need help! _Please!_ Send someone to help me!" he yelled into the phone, getting frustrated. " _ **I can't lose her!**_ "

He pressed his other hand to his forehead in stress, his eyes still trained on my motionless body, listening to the person on the phone and forcing himself to remain calm. "Her best friend just died the night before last… I-I don't _know_ if it was intentional! This isn't _like_ her! She just had an asthma attack yesterday morning, and-and she seemed okay. She's not the kind to commit _suicide_ … She's strong! She's _so_ strong! …No, please…"

I watched in pain as he broke down and dropped to his knees at my bedside, dropping my phone to the floor and burying his face in my comforter. His hands gripped my arm, and his body was wracking with sobs. I could hear the voice of a woman yelling to him from the phone that was now on the floor.

"Sir… Sir!"

He ignored it, though. He raised his head to look at me, one of his hands leaving my arm and going to my face, where he brushed some of my hair back. Tears rolled down his cheeks uncontrollably.

"Carly, please… Don't do this to me…"

I felt a tear fall from my eye as I watched, wishing more than anything that Spencer wouldn't do this. I hated seeing him like this. I'd _never_ seen him like this, not even when Mom died. I mean, yeah, he'd cried, but he hadn't freaked out like this… I'd never seen him actually have a literal _breakdown_.

He continued to weep at my bedside, his hands gripping onto me, begging me not to leave him. I watched, frozen, unsure of what I could do. I turned around to see Sam closer behind me now, having followed me from our previous spots. She watched me with expectant eyes.

It surprised me when she spoke, her voice coming out soft and gentle like an angel's. "It's your choice, Carls…"

I quickly turned back to the view of my room, watching in horror as a group of paramedics rushed into my bedroom, medical equipment in hand. One of them carefully brought Spencer away from my body, letting the others get in closer to me and inspect all my vital signs. One of them pried one of my eyes open, shining a small flashlight into it, while another one of them held a finger to the inside of my wrist, timing it patiently. Another one grabbed up the pill bottles that were sitting on my nightstand and opened them, inspecting the pills inside.

"Where'd she get these?" the paramedic spun to face Spencer, questioning him.

He looked at her, dumbfounded, and shook his head. "I-I don't know! I never have pills in the house, and she's never been prescribed anything… They weren't there when I last checked on her."

The paramedic turned back around, talking to one of the other paramedics, "These are Xanax and Ambien. Is she showing signs of an overdose?"

The paramedic that was inspecting my body spoke up, "Patient has a history of asthma, most likely triggered by emotional stress or trauma. She's unresponsive, her pupils are dilated, and her pulse and breathing are extremely weak. Possible overdose. We need to get her to the hospital stat."

They all spoke in such calm and professional tones. Another paramedic appeared in the doorway, pushing a stretcher inside. He pushed it up beside my bed and they all helped lift my body up onto it, immediately strapping me down and placing an oxygen mask on my face. I was still in my underwear and nightshirt, my hair messy as it lay around my head. My skin was paler than normal, and my eyelids were darkened, almost as if they were bruised. My body looked cold.

Spencer watched helplessly, still crying silently. When they started to wheel me out of the room on the stretcher, he raced towards them. "Where are you taking her? What's going on?!"

One of the paramedics stopped him from getting in the way, letting the others get through and push me out of the room. "Sir, those pill bottles held Xanax and Ambien – very dangerous drugs if mixed together. She could've easily taken too many – whether purposely or on accident – and she's only barely alive right now. So we're taking her to the hospital and getting her on life support right away. We're going to do all that we can to keep her alive. Where is her parent or guardian? You're her brother, right?"

He quickly nodded, his eyes wide with fear. "I-I'm her brother and her guardian. Our mom's dead and our dad's in the Navy. He's in Europe right now. What… is she gonna live? What's going on?"

The paramedic shook her head. "Come on. You can ride in the ambulance. We'll try to explain as much as we can at the hospital."

He nodded again before following the paramedic out of my room. When my room was empty, I heard screaming from downstairs. It sounded like Freddie and Mrs. Benson had walked into the apartment.

"Spencer – what's going on?!"

"Freddie! Carly got a hold of pills and – d'you know where she got them? Nevermind… we're going to the hospital! Mrs. Benson, meet us up there! Carly's still alive, but just barely!"

I held back a sob, imagining Freddie's face and how bad he would feel knowing he'd given me the pills. But he warned me! I was so stupid for taking so many… I should've known! All those drug overdoses you always hear about, the celebrities dying from too many sleeping pills and all those kids who commit suicide… It wasn't intentional, though. Did they know that? I would never kill myself, _never_!

I spun around to see Sam still standing there patiently, her smile having faded away. She looked at me.

"Do they know I didn't…? I would never kill myself! I didn't do it on purpose – I _swear_!" I cried frantically.

She nodded calmly. "Spencer knows; he knows you almost better than I do. But everyone else might think differently… Carls, there's not much time left."

I stared at her questioningly. "Time for what?"

" _Life._ "

I don't know what happened next… One second, I was standing in front of Sam, that bright light behind her and the screams of my brother fading away behind me… The next, everything was black.

I heard that familiar beeping and screeching of machines in my ear – just like the ones I'd heard the night Sam died. I felt hands all over my body, and something plastic over my mouth and nose, clean air coming into my lungs through it. I felt the cold, sterile air on my bare legs and arms, and my heart was beating faster than normal, just like it had been before the darkness had taken over. My head ached terribly, like a pounding headache, and I felt nauseous. I could feel a tiny needle in the top of my hand and a thin tube running from it.

I tried to open my eyes, but it was too hard. I was so weak. I heard doctors and nurses yelling at each other, just like the night Sam died, only a little less frantic. I heard Spencer from somewhere nearby, talking to a doctor, fear thick in his voice.

" _No_ , I didn't give her the pills! I dunno _where_ she got them!" he cried defensively.

"Okay, Mr. Shay. Please calm down. We're just trying to figure out exactly what happened and whether it was intentional or accidental," the stern, professional voice told him calmly.

"Well I'm not _stupid_! I would _never_ give my baby sister pills like that – the most I've ever even had in the house was cough medicine and ibuprofen! I sure as hell would never give her non-prescription pills to just… do as she pleased with!" Spencer continued, his anger building. "And I _know_ this wasn't on purpose. She may be upset over Sam, but she would never do this to me and Dad… She would _never_ kill herself. _Never._ It had to have been an accident… She probably couldn't sleep and just got too frustrated or something. I-I don't know what else could've happened."

The doctor sighed. "Okay. Well, we're going to have to pump her stomach. We're just trying to get her conscious right now and steady her pulse and breathing. If we can get a response from her at least, then we can go ahead and try to get her to cooperate long enough to get the tube in, as long as we can keep her stable."

I was confused… They were going to pump my stomach? Would it hurt? Would I feel it? Was I going to survive this? What about Sam? Where did she go? I wanted to see Sam… I wanted to know I was safe. I knew I was safe if she was around.

The blackness suddenly took me back, engulfing me, and all of the pain in my body disappeared. The cold air was gone, and the beeping and voices weren't there anymore… just silence.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in front of Sam again. She was watching me expectantly. I noticed how peaceful and surprisingly calm she looked, and how she looked wise… as if her death had brought an unknown knowledge to her. She was calm and patient in a way I'd only seen a few times during the entire time I'd known her; like everything was finally right for her, and she had no anger or sadness or _anything_ …

"What's going on?" I managed to ask, my voice weak.

She gave me a smile, calming me down. "I didn't get to choose, Carly…"

"Choose what?" I questioned impatiently.

"Whether to live or to die," she replied, her blue eyes sparkling. "You get to choose… You can go back and live life – stay with Spencer and Freddie, grow up, graduate, get married, have kids… Or you can stay here. With me. You can leave Spencer and Freddie behind, your dad, your granddad, the life you know… and you can stay here with me and your mom and grandma."

I stared at her in disbelief. I had the _choice_? I got to _choose_ whether I could live or die? _Are you_ _ **kidding**_ _me?_

"What… but, Sam… how can I choose? I don't want to lose you forever," I begged. "Please… don't make me choose. I didn't mean to kill myself, but-but I don't wanna lose you again. I love you… _so much…_ "

She continued to smile, still so calm, the white light behind her seeming to get brighter. "I love you, too, cupcake. I always have, and I always will. And you _won't_ lose me; I'll never leave you. I'll always be with you. I'll always be there for you. I told you that, and I meant it…"

I didn't say anything, unsure of _what_ to say. What kind of a decision was this to make? Who was I to hold my own life in my hands? Decide whether to stay with Sam forever, or go back to Spencer and the life I've always had, minus Sam… How was this fair in the least?

"But… I miss you so much…" I mumbled, tears in my throat. "I don't think I _can_ live without you. God, Sam, you're my _world_. You're _everything_ to me. And everything feels so empty without you… How can I go back to living without you?"

She shook her head. "You won't be, Carls. _I will always be there._ You could feel me there before, you'll be able to feel me there always. You can talk to me and you can cry and you can laugh, and I'll always be there to help you and heal you and make sure everything is right… just for you, just like it's always been. I love you, Carly, and as much as I don't want to lose you…"

Her voice trailed off and she looked down at her feet for a moment before lifting her head again and pointing behind me. I turned around to see that tunnel-like view of my life again, but this time it was the hospital. My body lay in the bed, unconscious, doctors and nurses working around it, doing all they could to keep me breathing, keep me _alive_. Spencer stood off to the side, his teary eyes glued to my motionless body, not even paying attention to the doctor that was talking to him. His eyes kept darting back and forth between the heart monitor and my body, hope and fear and anxiety all over his pale face.

"They need you, too," Sam finished in a whisper behind me. "You're everything to Spencer, and he'd be absolutely lost if he didn't have you. He'd feel the same pain losing you as you felt losing me… Freddie is in love with you, and as much as you don't want to admit it, a part of you loves him, too, and there's possibility there for the two of you in the future."

She paused. "Carls, I saw my life flash before my eyes before I died, just like what people say happens… And most of what I saw was _you_."

I turned back to her, my eyes wide and tear-filled. "Wh…why didn't I see my life? I only fell asleep and-and woke up _here_."

She took a deep breath, staring into my eyes with piercing, blue orbs. "Because… your life isn't finished yet… _Mine was._ "

I swallowed hard, staring at her. It took me a few moments to say anything again. "A-and what if I go back? When-when it's my time to die… will you still be here? Can we be together forever then?"

She smiled at me reassuringly. "Of course. I'll always be here, waiting for you, watching over you, making sure you're never hurt. If you decide to go back and live… Well, I can wait. I'll watch over you, Carls. And when it _is_ your time, I'll be right here, waiting for you, waiting until your life is finished."

I blinked, more tears in my eyes. The beeping and sobbing I could hear behind me put panic in my chest, as if my time here with Sam was limited.

"Yes. We can be together _forever_ … just like we were always meant to be."

I shook my head, shutting my eyes and looking down. "What about these wings? _Why_ do I have them? Why don't _you_ have wings, Sam? _Why?!_ "

"I was never meant for wings, cupcake," she answered simply, lightly chuckling. It sent a warmth through me to hear her laugh again. "You were always the one with wings. They're just visible when you're here. I saw you with them before I died… on that hill… And I realized they had always been meant to be there."

I choked back a sob. "But why didn't _you_ get to choose? Why do I get to? How is that fair?"

"Because it's how it was meant to be. I can't explain it, Carls. I just know that I was supposed to die so I could always be there for you in the ways I never could when I was alive. It's not fair, I know… But it's _fate_. I love you, and I'm sorry for how crappy of a friend I was in life… but now I can be everything I wanted to be to you."

I shook my head, looking back up and opening my eyes. " _No!_ You were _never_ a crappy friend! I love you so much, Sam… I just want to be with you now… I can't stand being without you. _It always hurts…_ "

She just stared back at me, waiting. "You can be with me now… or you can go back and finish life, and I'll be here when it's your time. You have to decide, though; I can't make the decision for you…"

I choked back another sob. I could tell what she wanted me to do… And I knew what I wanted. What _I_ wanted was selfish… but could you blame me? Sam was my _best friend_ , and _everything_ to me… How could I just give her up?

But then… how could I give Spencer up? And Freddie? And Dad, and Granddad…? And how could I let Sam down, knowing what she truly wanted me to do?

I sighed, shutting my eyes tightly. The words I forced out were the most difficult I'd ever had to say… but I knew I had to.

" _I want to live._ "

I opened my eyes to see Sam's glowing face smiling, and it sent another warmth through me to see her happy. I forced a smile back, except, it wasn't _really_ forced… A part of me knew that this was something I couldn't take for granted, and that I should just be grateful to see Sam one last time and talk to her, and that I was extremely lucky to be able to make this choice, when Sam _couldn't_ …

"I love you, Carly… And I'll always be there for you. I'll be here waiting when it's time."

I blinked back tears and waited, almost holding my breath, feeling my heartbeat speed up again inside my chest.

The last thing I heard her angel-like voice whisper to me was, " _This is how it was meant to be._ "

And then the blackness enveloped me one last time. That bright white light faded and I was pushed backwards, toward the life I'd always known…

It may be without Sam… but it was also completely with her… because she'd never _really_ leave me. She was _always_ all around me. Best friends forever… right?

 _I can feel you all around me_  
_Thickening the air I'm breathing_  
_Holding on to what I'm feeling_  
_Savoring this heart that's healed…_

**end.**


End file.
